


Colder Harder Cash

by meowitskatmofo



Series: Cold Hard Cash [4]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Mob, BDSM, ColdFlash Week 2018, Gags, Heavy BDSM, M/M, Marriage, Porn With Plot, Smut, Spanking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-26 00:45:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16209152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meowitskatmofo/pseuds/meowitskatmofo
Summary: Boss Cold has a very special proposal for Barry Allen.





	Colder Harder Cash

"What's your safe word, Mr. Allen?" 

"Ice." 

"Let's begin... Strip for me." 

"Yes, sir," Barry replied breathlessly. He pulled all of his clothes off, folding them neatly and setting them on the chaise at the foot of the bed. 

Cold circled him slowly, gloved fingers lightly tracing the lines of his body; his spine, his collarbones, the groove of his hips. 

Barry shuddered when Cold trailed a single digit along the shaft of his cock, the cool leather feeling dangerous and exquisitely sinful. He was already hard, twitching at the teasing touches. 

Cold took him in hand, squeezing softly, purring, "Always so eager for me..." 

"Yes, sir," Barry breathed, trying to resist thrusting against the soft leather. 

Cold massaged his thumb over the head of Barry's cock, rubbing the seam of his glove across the leaking head, smiling smugly. 

Barry took a deep breath, his fingers clenching into tight fists by his sides. He hadn't been given permission to touch, his head tilting back as Cold stroked him. 

"Mmm, it would appear you've soiled my gloves," Cold purred, referring to the trail of precome left behind. 

"I'm sorry, sir," Barry gasped, his eyes fluttering wide open. 

"Clean them," Cold commanded, presenting his hand to Barry's lips. 

Barry leaned forward, his tongue earnestly lapping over the leather to lick away his own filth. Yes, they were dirty; he had to clean them. 

He groaned when two gloved fingers suddenly plunged deep into his mouth, running his tongue over the leather and sucking hard. 

Cold fucked his fingers into Barry's mouth, grabbing the back of his hair and watching him intently. "There," he sighed, "Suck them clean, Mr. Allen. Such a good boy for me..." 

Barry nodded firmly, groaning as he licked and sucked eagerly, gagging softly when Cold's fingers hit the back of his tongue. 

Cold waited until Barry's eyes were watering before pulling away, softly kissing his brow as he purred, "Lovely, Mr. Allen." 

Barry blushed, savoring the rare affection, sighing, "Thank you, sir." 

Cold sat down on the chaise, patting his thigh as he ordered, "Come sit. Facing away from me." 

Barry scrambled to obey, settling in Cold's lap and leaning against his chest. He pouted when he felt Cold push him forward, asking, "Sir?" 

"Keep your ass in my lap and put your hands down on the floor," Cold instructed curtly. 

Barry teetered down, grateful for Cold's strong grip to keep him steady while he got in position. His ass was arched up, his knees spread wide as he kept his legs straddled across Cold's hips. It was awkward, feeling his abdominal muscles straining to hold himself up like this. 

His cheeks heated up when he realized he was spread out before Cold like a banquet, groaning when he felt gloved hands squeezing his cheeks, thumbs massaging just outside of his hole. 

The pressure was intense, the leather ridiculously sexy, and Barry pushed himself up for more. He got a quick spank in response, whining loudly. 

"Stay," Cold warned him, returning to stroking his gloved fingers over Barry's ass. He didn't allow any penetration, only enough pressure to make Barry clench and ache, squeezing his balls gently. 

Barry's arms were soon starting to shake, glancing down between his legs to see his cock was dripping. He grunted softly, straining to keep himself up, pleading softly, "Sir... I can't..." 

"Yes, you can," Cold said firmly, bowing his head down. 

Barry moaned when he felt the first warm slide of Cold's tongue, dragging up his balls right to his hole. He had to scoot backwards and drop to his elbows, crying out as Cold began to slowly lick around his rim in precise circles. 

Cold's gloved fingers were pulling Barry's cheeks apart, his lips kissing and sucking at his hole as his tongue began to press forward. The leather was warm now from being in such close contact with his skin, and Cold's tongue was a hot iron as it darted inside of him. 

Barry moaned happily, rocking back against Cold's mouth. He expected to get spanked, but only heard a grunt of encouragement. He kept moving, eagerly grinding his hips down. He could feel Cold's hard cock rubbing against his own, alternating between pressing there or back into Cold's wicked tongue. 

He was trembling all over, the ache between his thighs beginning to throb. He balled his hands into fists, gasping, "Please..." 

"Trust me," Cold sighed adoringly, his tongue swiping reverently over the puckered flesh, "I will always take care of you." 

"You do, sir," Barry agreed desperately, "You always do..." 

"Then trust me," Cold repeated, resuming fucking his tongue deep inside of him. 

Barry gasped and whined, too hot, too eager, grinding his hips down hard. If he could get enough friction, he knew he could make himself come like this. He couldn't do it without permission, but God, did he long for release. 

Cold gave him a harsh slap on his thigh, growling, "Don't think I don't know what you're doing... you naughty boy." 

"I wasn't going to," Barry protested pitifully, "Never, never without your permission, sir!" 

"And here I was going to let you come soon," Cold said with a disappointed groan. 

"But sir-!" 

Cold cracked his hand across Barry's ass so hard it stung wildly, making him gasp out loud. "Now," he said sternly, "Collect yourself and get into bed. On your hands and knees." 

Barry wanted to argue, but he knew it would not do him any good. He crawled out of Cold's lap and onto the floor, shuffling around to the bed. He was stiff from the awkward position, smiling when Cold helped him up onto the mattress. 

The assistance came with another hard spanking, Barry crying out and quickly getting on his knees. Cold was right behind him, pressing close as he purred, "You've been awfully mouthy today, Mr. Allen... what's to be done about that?" 

"I want to be good, sir," Barry pleaded, dropping his head down into the mattress, "More than anything." 

"Keep your hands where I can see them," Cold ordered, "I shouldn't have to bind you for you to stay just as you are. Isn't that right?" 

"Yes, sir." 

"Good boy," Cold drawled approvingly, reaching over into their bedside drawer. "And this should help that mouth of yours." 

Barry listened intently, trying to figure out exactly what it was Cold was getting for him. He heard a soft clinking, something with a buckle. He knew it was his gag before Cold even had to tell him to open his mouth. 

"Very good boy," Cold praised, sliding the gag into place and buckling it. He checked the fit, asking softly, "Mmm, is that all right?" 

Barry nodded, giving a thumb's up. He relaxed, sighing contently. The leather straps against his cheeks were comforting, and he was even fond of the latex rubber taste on his tongue. 

The gag helped him be a good boy for Cold. 

Cold's slick cock pressing against his hole prompted a muffled moan, whimpering when he felt his gloved hands squeezing his hips. 

Barry kept as still as he could, his fingers clawing at the sheets as Cold began to push inside. He pushed and pushed and was fully seated in one smooth thrust, Barry panting heavily against the gag. 

"You always take my cock so well," Cold praised, growling softly as he began to move, pulling Barry's hips back to meet him for each thrust. 

Barry cried out, his hole aching sweetly and wonderfully stuffed, shuddering at every each brutal slam of Cold's cock. He couldn't remember the last time Cold had fucked him like this; hard, fast, and completely without mercy. 

He sobbed, almost hysterical, tears and drool running down his face as Cold ravaged him. His toes were curling up, trembling in ecstasy as Cold worked him right up to the edge of blinding pleasure. It was absolutely heaven, moaning shamelessly as he struggled to fight off his orgasm. 

His balls were so tight that they hurt, and he could feel his heart pounding down in his cock. Cold didn't show any signs of slowing, leaving Barry to cry and writhe beneath him as he did everything he could to stop himself from coming. 

Cold moved a hand to squeeze Barry's cock and he wanted to scream. The leather curling around his shaft was too much, trying to jerk away. He moaned against the gag, slapping the mattress in frustration. 

He had to be good, he had to wait, but fuck! 

He was right _there_! 

"Not yet," Cold ordered sharply, his voice breathless and stern, "You will not come yet." 

"Mmmmph!" Barry shouted in protest, weeping as his entire body shook. The pressure made his head pound and his vision briefly blurred. He could feel sweat pricking up along his spine, trying to focus on Cold's voice.

"You will not come," Cold soothed, slowing down his brutal thrusting to a crawl, Barry finding that somehow even more cruel, "You're such a good boy for me... calm down... you can do this... you will not come until I say so..." 

Barry nodded his head, sniffing miserably. He inhaled through his nose, trying to get himself under control. He was still shaking, moaning brokenly when Cold's gloved hands stroked across his back and sides. 

"You're so beautiful, Mr. Allen," Cold sighed, "So perfect for me... you'll wait for me, won't you?" 

Barry shivered, leaning his hips back into Cold's strong hands. His loins were on fire, taking a deep breath. And another. Then another. The slide of Cold's cock inside of him was tortuous but gentle, nodding slowly. 

He could do this. 

"Mmmph," Barry nodded, tearful but determined. 

"Good boy," Cold growled low, suddenly thrusting his cock as deeply as he could. 

Barry moaned, biting at the ball of his gag, his head snapping back as Cold started fucking him again. He could hear Cold panting, feeling the desperation in his thrusts and the ferocious way he clutched at his sides. 

He focused on listening to his lover's impending climax, a stuttered groan leaving Cold's throat as he finally came. He dragged his gloved fingers down Barry's spine towards his neck, pressing his face into the mattress as he shuddered inside of him. 

Barry whimpered quietly as Cold gave one last rough thrust, gasping as he felt the warm leather of his glove curling around his aching cock. 

"You did so well," Cold praised adoringly, "Now, Mr. Allen... come for me." 

Barry whined gratefully, all of his attention zeroing in on the smooth leather stroking him. The ache inside him was burning, embers of ecstasy crackling up his spine down to the tip of his cock as he climaxed. 

The intense release made his head light, instantly falling limp against the sheets as Cold continued to stroke him. He moaned, too sensitive and hot, his nostrils flaring as he tried to catch his breath. 

"On your back," Cold purred gently, giving him one last squeeze before finally letting go. 

Barry whimpered, rolling over and gazing lovingly up at Cold. He turned his head, sighing as he unbuckled the gag and removed it. 

"One last task, Mr. Allen," Cold ordered, holding out his gloved hand, "Seems you've soiled my gloves again. Clean them." 

"Yes, sir," Barry replied, sitting up and grabbing Cold's wrist. He eagerly stuck out his tongue, lapping up his own come from the leather. He worked in between each finger, sucking obediently at the seams. 

Cold was smiling, petting Barry's damp hair as he watched him. "Now," he said softly, "Get that last bit there, yes, and hold it there in your mouth." 

Barry obeyed, squeaking delightedly when Cold bowed down to kiss him. Cold's tongue slid right into Barry's mouth, sliding against his own and stealing away the taste of his come. Barry moaned softly, left positively dumbstruck by the passionate kiss when Cold pulled away. 

Cold licked his lips, smirking happily as he said, "Absolutely perfect." 

"Uh huh," Barry breathlessly agreed. 

"Are you all right, Barry?" Cold asked, tugging off his gloves and using his bare hands to cup his face. He gingerly traced his thumbs along the pressure lines left behind from the gag, frowning. 

"I'm great," Barry promised him, smiling brightly, shyly adding, "I really like the gloves." 

"I'm glad," Cold replied, kissing his forehead and sitting down beside him on the bed. 

Barry quirked a brow. It was a little unusual for Cold to sit with him so soon. Normally, they'd be heading to the shower to get cleaned up first. He tilted his head, asking curiously, "Are you okay?" 

"Mmm, wonderful," Cold assured him, kissing his cheek, "There's something I need to talk to you about." 

"Can't wait until after our shower?" Barry teased. 

"No," Cold replied with a faint snort, "This is too important." He pursed his lips in thought, musing, "Think of it as a new deal." 

" _Another_ one?" Barry groaned, laughing as he watched Cold reach into his pocket. "I thought we were done with all of that..." 

Cold was holding a very small box in his hand. 

A ring box. 

Barry's heart leapt into his mouth, immediately blocking any ability to draw breath, gasping, "That's... that's... is that...?" 

"Barry," Cold began slowly, "I need to propose a new deal for us." 

Barry's blood had all made its way up into his face, flushed and completely exhilarated. He couldn't stop smiling, fidgeting anxiously. 

Propose! 

Cold was about to propose to him! 

"There may be some trouble soon," Cold went on, his eyes serious and unblinking, "And I need to extend to you every possible protection so that the police are no longer tempted to try and involve you in my business." 

Barry flinched. Not quite the heartfelt proposal a young boy might dream about, but Cold wasn't done talking yet. He tried to remain hopeful. 

"As you know, my aspiring young attorney," Cold continued, handing him the ring box, "Spousal privilege will shield you from being forced to testify against me from the moment we're legally married." 

"Wait," Barry snapped, staring down at the little box, "Are you... are you only marrying me so I won't have to testify against you?" 

"This is a very important deal, Barry," Cold said, a touch impatiently and refusing to directly answer the question, "I need to know that you'll be safe. You wouldn't want to lie to the authorities, and this way you won't have to. Your conscience will be clear if you happen to become privy to any of my work." 

"Right," Barry snorted disgustedly, "Like how my conscience is so clear knowing what really happened to Dickie White?" 

Cold's eyes narrowed and his expression drained of any warmth, warning, "Careful, Barry." 

"Careful or else what?" Barry spat defiantly, his heart aching and glaring furiously, "Gonna have Nimbus whack me?" 

"No!" Cold growled, obviously frustrated. He took a deep cleansing breath, saying carefully, "I don't want to make this complicated. It's a very simple arrangement. I've already had a prenuptial agreement drawn up-"

"Wait, what?" Barry stood up, staring at Cold in disbelief. "A prenup? How long have you been planning this?" 

"A few weeks," Cold replied without even bothering to look ashamed. 

"A few weeks?" Barry echoed. He wanted to laugh, perhaps cry. Maybe both. He shook his head and set the box down on the bed, asking bitterly, "And when exactly were you thinking about telling me?" 

"When everything was ready," Cold replied, his face muted and eyes watching Barry intently as if he was dealing with a wild animal, "And now it's ready, so I'm telling you." 

"Wow! A marriage proposal with a prenup already included! How sweet! Except you didn't even actually propose! It's just another stupid fucking deal!" Barry snapped, fumbling around to find his clothes. He managed to get his boxers on, scoffing, "Why'd you even bother getting a ring?" 

"Because I wanted this to be romantic," Cold answered through his teeth. 

"Right! Because nothing screams romantic like hey, I got us a prenup, baby!" Barry snarled sarcastically. 

"Barry," Cold said shortly, rising up slowly, "This is the most practical arrangement. We will both benefit from this, and you'll be protected." 

"Do you love me?" Barry challenged, crossing his arms over his chest and jutting out his chin defiantly. 

"What?" Cold looked alarmed by such a direct question. 

"You heard me," Barry said haughtily, "Do you love me? Really and truly love me? Convince me that you're proposing because you love me and not just to cover your own ass." 

"You are well aware of the depth of my affection for you," Cold replied sharply. 

"Tell me," Barry demanded, "And I'll think about it." 

"Think about what?" 

"Saying yes!" Barry growled. 

"It's already done," Cold said icily, "Asking was a formality that I thought you would enjoy. I did not expect this much... resistance." 

"Okay, you haven't actually freakin' asked me and, wait... What's already done?" Barry asked quietly, his stomach churning violently. 

"We're already married," Cold replied as if it was obvious, sneering softly, "I had the papers drawn up and notarized already." 

"You, you what?!" Barry shouted, gasping in horror. "How could you do this! What did you do, forge my signature?" 

"Yes," Cold answered simply. 

"This is bullshit!" Barry raged, his chest getting tight as he struggled not to cry. "How, how the hell could you possibly think I'd be okay with this?" 

"I thought you'd be pleased," Cold said shortly. 

"You're insane!" Barry shouted, stepping into his pants and adding angrily, "You do know all that shit with Dickie and Lisa wouldn't be protected by spousal privilege because I found out about it before we were married." 

"I know," Cold retorted dryly, "That's why I had the marriage certificate backdated." 

"You _what_?!" 

"Everyone will think that we eloped six months ago when we first met and we're going to have an official ceremony next month," Cold growled, "All the other families that I have alliances with are coming, and so are my political associates and all the Rogues." 

"You already set a date?" Barry gasped, blinking rapidly. 

"Yes," Cold sighed, bringing the ring box back to Barry and pressing it into his hands, "Trust me. This is the best thing for us, Barry." 

Barry stared down at the box, still not daring to open it. He loved Cold with all of his heart, and there was no doubt in his mind that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with him. He would have happily married him. 

But not like this. 

He began to slowly shake his head, saying quietly, "No." 

"What?" Cold spat. 

"No," Barry repeated stubbornly, his voice rising louder and louder as he raged, "I'm not marrying you or pretend marrying you or what the fuck ever! This isn't some stupid deal! This is marriage! I want you to propose because you love me, because you want to spend the rest of your freakin' life with me! Not because of your stupid gangster bullshit!" 

"We're having a wedding, Barry," Cold growled, a rare sliver of anger working its way through his icy demeanor, "It's already done." 

"Ohhh, the fuck it is!" Barry seethed furiously. He jerked his head towards the door when he heard it open without warning, groaning when he saw Mick Rory lumbering in. 

Mick looked concerned, munching on a sandwich as he grumbled worriedly, "Everything okay in here? Heard buncha shouting." 

"Everything is fine, Mick," Cold replied quickly. 

"No! Nothing is fine!" Barry growled angrily, quickly grabbing his robe, "And learn how to freakin' knock! Geez!" 

"Oh, so you finally told him," Mick mumbled through a bite of his sandwich. 

Barry was almost hyperventilating, staring stupidly at Cold as he fiercely snapped, "Mick knew before I did?" 

"Yeah, of course I knew," Mick snorted, shrugging his shoulders and snorting dismissively, "Damn, calm down, fuckin' bridezilla." 

"No!" Barry yelled frantically, "I will not calm down! And I am not a fucking 'bridezilla' because I am not a damn bride because I am not fucking getting married!" 

"But you're already married-" Mick began, confused. 

"No, the fuck I'm not!" Barry roared. He wanted to scream, glaring at Cold as he snapped, "There is no ring on my finger, and I didn't say yes! You didn't even ask my father for permission, did you?" 

"I don't need anyone's permission," Cold retorted with a faint growl. 

"Right," Barry laughed bitterly, "Because this is just a business deal. Not like it's a real marriage built on trust and love or any of that crap!" 

"You're being dramatic," Cold drawled. 

"Ohhh," Barry hissed, hurling the ring box at him as hard as he could, "You haven't seen fucking dramatic!" 

"After everything I've done for you!" Cold suddenly roared, swatting the box aside and letting it clatter to the floor, "You're actually refusing me?" 

Barry had never seen Cold this angry, but he was too hurt to care. 

"Please!" Barry shouted back, "Like you do anything just for me! You always make sure that everything you do helps you most of all!" 

"You ungrateful little brat!" Cold hissed, positively beyond enraged. 

"Selfish fucking arrogant asshole!" Barry screamed, snatching up his shirt and yanking it on over his head, "I don't want to marry you! I can't even stand looking at you right now!" 

"Where are you going!" Cold barked, eyes narrowing as he watched Barry start marching to the door.

"I don't know!" Barry snarled, throwing up his arms in frustration as he began to storm out of the bedroom. "Away from you!" 

"Told ya' he'd be pissed," Mick remarked gleefully, chuckling softly. 

"Shut up, Mick," Cold drawled disgustedly. 

Barry heard Cold's footsteps coming up behind him, and he had the most ridiculous urge to run. He held up his head high, refusing to look back at him and stomping towards the stairs. 

He really didn't know where he was going. He was hurt and his heart was aching, desperate to put any sort of distance between them. 

Cold grabbed Barry around his waist, picking him up and carrying him back towards their bedroom, growling, "We're not done talking about this yet, Barry!" 

"Fuck you! I'm done!" Barry protested, kicking as hard as he could, "Put me down!" 

"No!" Cold stalked right back to their bed with Barry held firmly in his grasp, snapping, "Not until you hear what I have to say!" 

"I've heard enough! I don't wanna talk to you! I'm freakin' pissed the fuck off!" Barry snarled, shouting desperately, "Mick! Little help, please!" 

"You're on your own, Twig," Mick laughed as he took another big bite of his sandwich, clearly entertained by their fighting. 

"Now! Damn you! Listen to me!" Cold growled impatiently, pinning Barry down in their bed, "I'm sorry that you feel betrayed by my clandestine efforts, but I'm not sorry for doing what I believe is best for you. For _us_.

"It is the next logical step in our relationship and although sooner than I would have anticipated, the benefits are immense. And yes, even though I do not need it, I did ask your father for permission to take your hand in marriage!

"That ring you threw back at me? If you'd actually looked at it, you would have seen that I had your mother's diamond from her wedding ring placed in a new band for you. I also asked your father's permission for that." 

Barry was stunned completely speechless, gaping dumbly. He had really thought Cold had planned all of this as a soulless business transaction. He didn't know what to say. 

"Now," Cold drawled triumphantly, smirking smugly as if he had won, "Tell me again that this is just a deal for me. Tell me again that you doubt how I feel about you." 

Barry was honestly touched by how much effort Cold had clearly put into this, but he was still betrayed that all of it had been done behind his back. 

He had to hear it. 

At least one time, Barry needed to hear those three words. 

"Say it," Barry demanded quietly. 

Cold's eyes widened. He knew exactly what Barry wanted him to say, baring his teeth defiantly. 

"Say it," Barry asked again, pleading gently. 

Cold made an awful face, torn between anger and something horribly broken. 

Mick did his best to appear completely invisible, holding a giant mouthful in his cheek, watching them both with wide eyes. 

Barry waited, his breath miserably trapped in his throat. He didn't dare ask a third time, but he wouldn't give in. He needed this. 

"I love you," Cold finally said, his voice husky in his vulnerability and nearly trembling, his eyes wild with a deep need and intense passion. 

He said it. 

Cold had actually said it. 

It was in English and plainly spoken, and Barry could hardly believe it. His eyes were stinging with tears as he croaked, "Say it again." 

"I love you, Bartholomew Henry Allen," Cold said, more firmly and sure, "You're equally the most stubborn and the most beautiful man I've ever met. I envy your compassion and your tender heart, how fearlessly you give your affection. You're intelligent, clever, utterly insatiable, and-" 

Barry kissed him, his tongue snatching away all those sweet praises. Not a single one could compare to the joy of having heard Cold finally say that he loved him. 

Cold sighed softly, shifting between Barry's legs as they kissed. It was so natural to wrap his lean body around Cold's, strung out on the adrenaline of their nasty blowout and the new passion they'd found in this moment. 

"Glad to see you guys worked it out," Mick said cheerfully, noisily licking some mustard off his fingers, "The key to a happy marriage is good communication." 

"I still haven't said yes!" Barry protested, moaning softly when Cold kissed him again. He sighed, winding his arms around Cold's neck, mumbling, "Mmm, still haven't... mmmmph." 

"Good luck with that," Mick laughed, sauntering back towards the door. He was still snickering as it shut behind him, cackling down the hall as he went. 

"The wedding isn't for another month," Cold purred breathlessly, hands roaming down Barry's stomach, "You'll say yes." 

"Still mad at you," Barry huffed, trying to resist Cold's advances, "And you haven't technically asked me." 

"We're already married," Cold argued, his nimble fingers opening up Barry's jeans, "Asking you is pointless." 

"We're only married because you faked it," Barry grumbled, "I'm not saying yes to the wedding until you ask me properly." He grinned smugly. "A month, right? You have a month to come up with the perfect way to propose to me." 

Cold curled up his lip, sighing exasperatedly, "That is ridiculously unnecessary, and you know it. You are very frustrating." 

"Mmm, but you love me," Barry taunted impishly. 

"Yes," Cold smiled warmly, "Yes, I do."

**Author's Note:**

> <333


End file.
